Thursday's Child has Far To Go
by droidgirl
Summary: X-Over with the Sandman: Illyria's encounter with 2.5 of the Endless before A Hole In The World.
1. Chapter 1

"This looks like a really miserable living room." the voice boomed.

Illyria was shocked, if one such as It could be shocked. How did this interloper come into the throne room without the notice of any of the sentries, or Its awareness? He, She, or it, no matter, had to be destroyed for such impudence.

It raised a tentacled limb, ready to rend the insignificant irritant into a million pieces.

"I come with a warning." the speaker stepped into view, armored feet crashing loudly against the black flagstones. His red beard flowed over his bright armor, and his eyes twinkled in good humour, although there was a cold hard glint within their tawny depths. A sword hung from his hip, sheathed away. His shadow stretched out before him, appearing much larger than his physical form.

"Warning?" Illyria, if it could deign to scoff, scoffed. "Why would I need warning? My power reaches to all corners of the universe; I crush the skulls of those who dare to imagine they are my equal in power, and never know their names."

Despite Its boasts, which were mostly true, Illyria sensed the danger that surrounded the being before It. A true leader was not proud enough to imagine absolute infallibility; that was a fool's prerogative.

"Aye, you have precious little to fear, and what little is fearsome indeed." the Man, if he was indeed that, said as he strolled around the large throne room, gazing at the gory carving. The corner of his lips twitched as if he was keeping himself from guffawing out loud. "The artwork in here is...interesting."

"Speak what you will, before I lose all patience."

"Wouldn't want that. You'll be needing it." he turned his flaming eyes towards the Illyria.

"Who are you?" the mammoth ruler asked.

"Let's just say that like any natural offspring, you choose to defy your sire." he looked deeply at It, and Illyria felt uneasiness waking in the pits of Its stomachs. "You resist the way of the universe, to create even as it destroys; and you wreck destruction so well...in your...hands? Tentacles? I would not like to offend."

"Enough." It said, and moved like a terrible phantom towards the Man.

"Soon, it will be. Enough that is, of all of this." the man gestured with his hands towards the world at large, and walked towards the shadow of a pillar. His own silhouette stretched out behind him, touching Illyria's form. "I come to warn, not that you may avoid what is to come, but that you may be prepared."

"I do not understand your words. I do not care to." Illyria said, voice terrible in its rage like a hundred thousand stinging hornets.

"Then have a care child." the voice said in the shadows, and the great hall was empty but for Illyria.

With a howl of rage, the pillars tumbled down in a majestic cloud of dust.

* * *

Within a span of two centuries, It was trapped beneath the world, lost to the realms of dreams and madness, which surprisingly, did not mix as well as Illyria had imagined it would.

* * *

In the darkness of the Sarcophagi, It heard a voice babble,

"SO YoU aRe my nIece/nePheW/thiNG. WOUld you LIKE to plAy BoGgLE? I toOk oUT the voWeLS BECause thEy haD TheiR dessert BefOrE diNNer."

Illyria didn't know what a 'Boggle' was. It kept silent.

"Oh weLL. i'Ll coMe BAck latEr."

* * *

At length, it found itself facing a Gryphon, a Dragon, and a Winged horse.

"Who are you?"

"What is your purpose?"

"Why should we not destroy you?"

They asked without moving their mouths.

"I am Illyria. You dare threaten me?"

"We dare." They answered as one. "We protect our Master's home."

"I have no interest in the figments of dreams. Else, I would crush you like you were dust." It said and turned away into the gray void.

In truth, for the first time in Its long life, Illyria knew that It had finally encountered beings who could and would destroy It with barely a thought, and made it so that It had never, ever been.

That was terrifying.

* * *

It was a relief, therefore, to find herself, as she came to think of herself, in a human shell, awake and aware. True, it lacked majesty, scrawny as it was. But all the same.

"This will do." She said, and shook off the vestiges of mania and sleep.

In the corner of her mind, she thought she heard a voice she had come to know well say,

"coME bAck anyTIME oK? I MiSS my brOTHer anD its NICE tO HaVe FamILy ovEr."

If she could help it, she would never.


	2. Chapter 2

A God to Gods

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Qoute from Angel Graphic Novel, Spotlight: Illyria.

* * *

_"I was born human…which I got a feeling you weren't." the murderer said._

"Yet I have a human body. Stronger, faster than the norm. But still human." Illyria replied, head cocked to her right.

Angel, "Spotlight: Illyria"

* * *

It had been days since she had arrived at the Burkle's doorstep, a lie on her lips about a Wolfram and Hart limo leaving her on the corner. After all, when it came to her and the Burkles, everything was. A lie, that is. Things unfamiliar and familiar all at once overwhelmed her senses. The smell of Trish Burkle's rose bushes which wafted through the tiny suburban property; the smoothness of the hardwood floors laid down by Roger. The bedroom filled with faded soft toys, posters of pop bands from another decade, and the soft, downy duvet over Fred's bed.

She could hear the Burkle's concern through the thin wooden door that separated them from her, but her eyes were fixated only on the old fashioned television before her. Illyria watched her own face on the screen laughing in joy over a birthday cake frosted in dozens of hues, and touched her cheek, trying to recall how it felt like to twist that way.

On screen, Winifred, aged six, was now on a stage; she was a princess in a castle, waiting for her prince who was wearing a costume two sizes too big for him.

Illyria blinked her blue eyes. Liquid splotched down on her clothing, blossoming in dark spots over the material. Something twisted in her chest.

"Fred? Honey?" Trish's voice was muffled, but the concern was unmistakable.

"Did you need something Mom?" Fred's voice responded.

"Are you ok in there? Would you like to join us for dinner? I made your favourite."

Illyria frowned, and then asked,

"Tacos?"

There was a short silence.

"Alright, your second favourite. I made buttermilk fried chicken."

The Goddess couldn't help but smile slightly.

* * *

"So what's new sugar?" Roger asked, pushing away his plate. "Is everything ok in L.A.?"

"Of course Daddy!" she said with a wide smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I just needed a break; I was gettin' real stressed from dealing with all that research and just wanted to come home for a bit."

"Well you shouldn't work yourself so hard. Callyanne, remember her? Drove herself right into a nervous breakdown in New York just last month." Trish said, looking at Illyria with serious eyes.

"Don't be silly you guys. I just needed a day or two away from the lab."

The older couple looked at each other, and Roger sighed.

"Fred, honey, is this because of a boy?" he asked.

"Or a girl! I mean, if that's what you like, its ok. We want you to know that we understand if you like other girls." Trish added hurriedly. "I mean, that would explain why you haven't mentioned any nice boys you were interested in, in the last year after that nice Charles boy, but really, we love you anyway sweetheart. Do you think you might want to adopt a baby though? We ain't pressurin' you but we do so look forward to the patter of our grandchildren's feet…"

"Trish, hush up!" Roger said, turning a shade of red Illyria was sure Fred had never seen on her father.

"But Rog…"

What would Fred do?

"I didn't just break up with a boy. And I'm not lesbian." The Goddess sounded slightly affronted.

"Oh. Well that's fine too." Trish sounded slightly disappointed. It was clear this was a topic she had rehearsed often. Then she brightened up.

"You remember Shawn, your old schoolmate? The one who married Brenda Jennings?"

Good looking boy who Fred once had a severe crush on in high school, Illyria thought.

"Well, Shawn just got a divorce last year. Brenda up and left him for a young gentlemen in Chicago. Never did like that little tramp."

The Goddess did not like where this was going.

"Well, as I was saying, Shawn's running a lovely horse farm not from here, and he's done really well for himself. He comes by often too, with those square things from his Momma."

As in on cue, someone knocked on the front door.

"In fact, there he is now!" Roger said, and the ancient being stiffened, knowing that she had been lured into a cunningly designed trap.

"Well, I'm going to…go clean up these things. Don't want company seein' this mess!" Trish said as she grabbed soiled dinner dishes off the table, trying to ignore the female's stern glare.

"You remember Fred dontcha Shawn?" the Burkle patriarch said, walking in with a young man.

"Sure I do Mr. Burkle." Shawn said, looking at the woman seated at the table with a half grin. "Hello Fred."

"Hello Shawn." Illyria replied sullenly, knowing when she had been bested.

"You kids should go out and enjoy yourself. The night's still young. You shouldn't be here with us old bats." Trish said, bustling between the kitchen and the dining table.

"Really, I would rather…" Fred's voice said.

"You know what you guys should do? Try out that new burger place by the highway. I heard they make great milkshakes." Roger said, bouncing on his heels.

"Daddy, I just ate." The Goddess said pointedly.

"Well, you still can use some dessert."

"What about it Fred?" Shawn sounded highly amused. "Your parents seem determined to get rid of you."

Illyria could feel eyes boring into her. With an uncharacteristic sigh, she pushed her chair back and stood up.

"Their milkshakes better be really good. Or I'll destroy them in such a way that generations for centuries to come will speak of it in terror and shaking."

The anticipation turned into confusion.

The Old One rolled her eyes, and pasted on a wide smile.

"Lead the way Shawn!" she chirped.

* * *

"Alright. Now that we're alone, would you rather go to Frank's for a real drink? I have a feeling you might need it." Shawn said as he started his car.

"It doesn't matter." She replied. "Do what pleases you."

"Right." Shawn said. "Ok."

They drove in silence. Illyria watched the houses passing by dispassionately, trying to picture her body playing, walking among these buildings.

Finally, they pulled into a parking lot, in front of a building that read "Frank's Bar and Grill" in a large green sign over the entrance. Snake like drawings intertwined between the letters in the words, mouths drawing back in welcoming smiles.

What would Fred do?

"I've never been in here." She said abruptly. "My parents used to warn me to stay away from here. I almost went in once, but then I kept thinking about how I'd be guilty forever, and…"

Shawn laughed.

"What?" Illyria asked.

"Nothing. It's just…you haven't changed a bit." He smiled. "Still babbling away a mile a minute like back in school."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"No, God, don't be silly. I just meant…" he flushed slightly. "I just meant I always wanted to talk to you, but you seemed to talk about such smart things, and I didn't know what to say to you, or how…how. You know what I mean?"

"Oh."

As an afterthought, Illyria allowed her own face to colour.

"Come on." Shawn cut the brakes.

Unclipping her seatbelt, she opened the door and stepped out, the ground crunching beneath her shoes. The sky above had already darkened, and the first star shone coldly down on her. Closing the door, Illyria walked towards the doors of the bar. She looked up at the sign again, and frowned.

Had the snakes moved in the last few minutes?

"Everything ok?" the man behind her asked.

"Just…perfect." Illyria answered.

"Good. Just what I wanted." He replied, and shoved her through the swinging wooden door.

* * *

"This the sacrifice?" a reedy voice said to Illyria's left.

"Yep, fresh from L.A." Shawn said behind her.

"Well she'll do." A third voice said; it came from the huge male behind the bar, eyeing her lasciviously. "Though I don't see why we can't have some fun before the ritual."

"We're late enough as it is."

She felt herself shoved forward again, forcing her onto her hands and knees.

"No hard feelings Freddy. I was runnin' late and didn't have time to find some other girl tonight. And our Master gets cranky if we're late with his dinner." Shawn said, sounding apologetic. "Trust me, I wish it could be someone else. I really like you."

"Explain yourself." Illyria said, feeling her armor fusing over the shell's skin. "You mentioned sacrifice."

"Yes, to Kai'alil." The other individual in the empty bar said, sauntering over, a small leather bound book in his hand.

"Why?" Illyria began to draw herself up.

"Money. Of course. He brings us business with his mojo. Nasty business, but still business you know?" the bartender said, drawing an elaborate dagger from behind the bar.

"Shawn, grab her. You, start read…holy shit." His eyes widened as he took in the blue goddess in all her battle garb.

"Fred?" Shawn asked hesitatingly.

"She's not in." Illyria said, turning around and pushed back at the man behind her. Shawn flew back and out the swinging wooden door, crumpling into a stunned heap. Behind her, she could hear the sound of a gun being drawn, and bullets racing towards her.

The shooter behind the bar found his head slammed into the wooden counter. The ceremonial dagger Illyria assumed they had wanted to use on Fred pinned his hand into the grained surface. The man screamed loud and long.

The man holding the book stood shaking, staring at the tableau before him. The front of his pants were wet.

Striding towards him and without any visible effort, Illyria lifted the young male in one hand.

"Summon him." She commanded.

"Wh…what?"

"Read your incantation. Summon this false god who would presume to use me as his sacrifice."

He looked at her in blind incomprehension, terror rendering him slow in wit. She tightened her fingers slightly. With fumbling fingers and great difficulty, the young male found the page in the book and held it before his bloodshot eyes. In choked tones, he began to read.

The middle of the room began to churn and glow. A cold wind blew outwards, sweeping all the furniture in the room into the corners.

"Who dares to summon Kai'alil?" a voice crashed through the bar.

A large serpent-like creature slithered out, and reared back, looking down at Illyria and the frightened, sobbing man in her hand. A very human-like brow frowned on It's face.

"Illyria? No, it can't be." It exclaimed.

She dropped the male, who scuttled backwards.

"Where have you been man? It's been what, five thousand years? Last time I saw you, you commanded this army and…"

"This isn't a social call." Illyria said flatly.

"Oh. Well." The creature looked around at his fallen and defeated worshippers. "Right."

"Your peons attempted to use me as a sacrifice."

"I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding." It eyed her small stature. "They probably thought you're just another helpless girl for dinner."

"Is this what you do now? Put on theatrics for paltry offerings?" Illyria asked in disgust.

"Hey, its hard for a giant snake in the twenty first century. The Old Ones are forgotten, and no one cares about us. Do you know how embarrassing it is for some of us? Ituvel, remember him? Lord of the Gryphon Reaches? He has to work at a gas station disguised as a high school kid just to make ends meet. No friend, this is not an easy world for us Old Ones where no one respects us and what we stand for."

"Friend?" Illyria tilted her head to the side. "I was never your friend. Your liege yes, but never your friend."

Kai'alil looked at her, and It's expression turned wolfish. Lips drew back to reveal two rows of razor sharp teeth.

"You're just an itty bitty girl. Guess time hasn't been kind to you either eh boss?"

The serpent struck fast. Illyria crouched and rolled away quickly.

"I'll make it fast, I swear." It said.

She said nothing in response. Instead, she leapt upwards, spinning her body to land right above Kai'alil's monstrously large brow. She drew her arm back, and then brought it crashing down, smashing past hair, bone and tissue. The creature gave an earth-shattering scream, thrashing mightily for a few seconds, before collapsing onto the dirty floor of the bar.

With a sickening squish, she withdrew her arm from the deaths of Kai'alil's skull. Ignoring the young male muttering and crying to himself in the corner, and the softly mewling bartender, she walked out into the darkness of the parking lot where Shawn was stirring.

"Fred?" he asked.

"No." Illyria responded.

He rubbed his head, looking up at her.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked, sounding like a scared boy.

Illyria lifted a foot, prepared to bring it down into his gut.

"Ohgodohgodohgod…" he put his arms in front of his face.

She hesitated for a long moment and finally stood up straight, both feet on the ground.

"Leave town. Run as far away as you can. If I ever catch you close to the Burkles again, I will make you wish I had killed you this night."

Without another word, Illyria turned away.


	3. Chapter 3

Far To Go

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, nor do I make any profit.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't need us to drive you?" Roger frowned at her through his glasses.

"I'm fine Daddy. The car's already waitin' for me at the town centre." Illyria said with a wide smile.

"Can't we walk you there?" Trish half implored.

"Mom, they're my employees. I can't instill fear in their hearts if my parents fussed all over me in front of them..." the goddess replied, hugging the older woman close.

"God, I miss you guys already." she continued, voice filled with emotion.

"Call us when you get back to L.A.!" Winifred Burkle's father said, and embraced her too, before reluctantly releasing her.

She waved brightly, and walked away on light feet. As the small house in Texas disappeared into the distance behind her, along with the township, her smile and her face slipped, revealing what would have been a mask of stone were it not for the tears that continued to stream freely from her blue, blue eyes.

* * *

The dirt road stretched out before her into the distance, and appeared empty but for the lonely truck or car rumbling past. It suited her, for she would not abide another being seeing her weakness. As fate would have it however, she had been walking for an hour on the road into the high noon when she heard the tuneless whistling of another traveller behind her.

"Slow down." a familiar voice called.

She stiffened.

"No need to panic. I only want to talk this time." he laughed, catching up with her.

"My, but you are a sight to behold now." he whistled again, this time appreciatively, proudly even. "Last time we spoke, you were a many tentacled beast the size of the World Trade Centre. Before, you know. 9/11. Now you've gone and developed curves. Can't say I cannot appreciate this change. "

"I take on many forms, and wear many shells. But I do not change." Illyria said stiffly, and resumed her walk.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." he said.

"I see you have lost your armour and your sword." She observed dispassionately.

"Not lost. Just stored away." he replied.

"Who are you?" she asked again, echoing the question from eons ago.

"You can call me Olethros." he said. "Sounds exotic, especially here in America in this time. The women love it."

"Olethros. Yes, it would make sense." Illyria nodded. "I lost...everything, after our meeting."

"I have forsaken much since." Olethros shook his head. "Such as the aspect I had visited upon you and your's. I would apologize if it were within my power to do such a thing."

"But you cannot have forsaken the aspect of Destruction. Mankind still wages their petty battles. Across the galaxies, even now, I can feel the death rattle of a once formidable race, presently nothing more than a wasted memory. No, Destruction still rages on across the worlds."

"The show goes on. I'm just not running it anymore." the Man said.

"I would not have thought that was possible." Illyria said.

"Everything changes." Olethros shrugged, and adjusted his small burden of a polka dotted pouch tied to the end of a stick. "Even you, Illyria."

They walked in silence, the blue haired Goddess neither agreeing nor disagreeing. When she finally broke the quiet, she said with great heaviness,

"More than I do not understand the world as it is now, I do not understand this human taint within. I feel affection for those who had loved the shell I now inhabit. I even feel affection for the two who sired her."

She paused.

"Worst of all…I feel…sorrow…for what I had done to her soul when I took her body for my own. Although I know she is nothing, and would have been less than nothing had I not honored this…vessel, that was her form, with my presence."

Olethros sat down on a rock that may or may not have been by the side of the road a moment ago. He drew a bottle of water out of his tiny pouch.

"Have I been merely polluted by the lingering vestiges of the Shell? Or am I becoming one of them?" she asked, looking down at him, cocking her head birdlike to the side. "What will become of me?"

Taking a long pull from the plastic container, he then put the bottle down on the scorching ground, and wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. Eyes narrowed, he looked into the distance.

"If its wisdom you want, or absolution, I can give you neither." he told the waiting Goddess. "But you're certainly not human."

"I...do not...I do not want these feelings. They make me...uncomfortable. But I can as soon stem the flow, as I can bring my dead kingdom back." Illyria admitted; there was defeat in her voice.

"And what use would swords and weak sorcery have against a Hydrogen Bomb or five?" Olethros asked. "No girlie, you need to move on."

"That is your solution? I transform?" she asked wonderingly.

"Pretty much." he said, and jumped to his feet, bottle now tucked away.

He towered over her; Illyria wondered if she had shrunk, or if he had grown. He must have grown; his shadow stretched out, shading her from the sun in its almost disproportionately large and dark shape. It felt inexplicably cold in that dimmed space.

"Ah Illyria, you were always my favourite child." Olethros said, and kissed her forehead. "I wish your change could go easier on you than it has on my siblings. Alas, the same blood runs through you, as it runs through us."

She felt the stirrings of grief again, only this time, it was not for Fred.

"This is where we part ways. If it is written in my brother's book, we might yet meet again some day." he concluded, grinning an easy grin at her.

Illyria watched as he veered off the dirt road and into the desert. When he was no more than a speck on the horizon, in what a human's eyes would have mistaken for a heat shimmer, he disappeared from sight.

She stood and stared out into nothing for a long moment.

Eyes dry, she eventually resumed her journey to Los Angeles.


End file.
